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Over-padded, over-biked, over here.

A symptom of the popularity of trail centres? Possibly, but they’re venturing out there into the outside world too….

Turn up, unload, pad up, tune out, destroy. Have your hand held round a loop. No thought required. Leave your sense of direction back in the car park – take the blue pill and the signposts will show you the way. Point and shoot, then repeat. Finally, some cake and coffee to finish.

There is a difference between them and riders with true skill (and no, I don’t include myself there, before some smart alec pipes up….). Riders with true skill float down the trail, finesse their way through and over what lies in their path. Tap the brakes only if needed. Maintaining momentum. Riding with *genuine* flow and skill. This is at both ends of some supposed spectrum, as labled by the comic books………..some of the local DHers are astonishingly skilled on the bike, as are some of the XC guys. While they may sometimes not realise it, they have the same skills, the same outlook. It’s just the size of the dropoff that changes…..and then, not always and often not by that much.

Not the Power Ranger. The power ranger is a bulldozer. No finesse. No true skill. Not a rounded cyclist, with experience of the range of experiences that brings. Colour coded riding – BLUE / RED / BLACK – and blinkers attached. Slam on the brakes, lets not just flow into the corner. Justify the massive rotors. Rationalise the excessive travel. Create more and more braking bumps. Ruin the trail for everyone else. Argue your way down – be it with the trail or anyone unfortunate enough to be in your way. Forget manners – you have a right to barge past, to shout the odds, to give other riders some verbal. No feel for the trail, no feeling of the trail – cushioned by the travel, no nuances felt, everything is levelled under 6 inches of squish.

Scared of nature – witness the removal of roots at a certain trail centre because people couldn’t deal with mother nature or the recent sanitisation / jumpyness added to a local XC loop. Idiotic and in the case of some of the local changes, dangerous. All to pander to one rider group. Maybe it’s because mother nature refuses to be graded blue, red or black?

Are skill or finesse no required to ride something.

Not for the Power Ranger……just lots of balls, or perhaps just full of bollocks.

So, we’re 5 weeks in.

5 weeks of intervals, fast hill climbs, short blasts, a few medium to long days in the saddle and tweaking things.

It didn’t take too long to get the ride sorted. 110mm stem and low rise carbon wrap bars (650mm), 100mm Floats off the old frame, XT crankset ‘borrowed’ from the 29er, the Mavic wheelset (still shod with the Advantage/Rendez combo) and the LX/XT brake combo.

However, I had to use a layback post as the horizontal C-T top tube length was almost an inch shorter than the geometry chart stated. The lines are now slightly askew, but it’s now pretty much bang on in terms of length. I may stick slightly wider bars on some day and it’s getting new tyres for winter.

How does it ride? Well, gears were obviously going to be faster than the SS but the bike truly is nimble in most local situations – the tight rooty singletrack, heather-covered flatlands, short sharp climbs etc that Fife has in abundance.

It flies.

The only criticism I have is that sometimes the front end feels just a little bit low, but then a longer fork or higher bars would change the handling and height the rest of the time, so sticking with a height that’s right 99% of the time is the way to go.

To be continued….

Photo by Jamesy.

It’s been a few good weeks of riding.

Selkirk.

Showing Jon Bateman Blairadam – the obvious bits on the east boundary but also the slightly secret prelude to the ********* *****, the first part of the Peak Trail, Eight Miles High, the micro slab, Craig and Grants Secret Descent, the Fern Trail, Pieries Burn, The Ridge and Fat Lady.

Visiting Comrie Croft with James -short but hard work on the climbs, some nice singletrack and tech, worth lapping and revisiting. An excellent trail.

Lochore – so short that it’s only part of a ride, easy to pick holes in but still a nice blast, lapping it in torrential rain….if only it lasted more than eleven minutes to lap it…..

Laggan at the weekend with James….words on velocake from James, photos on flickr.

I’ve been spoiled.

So now things are going back to normal, but that’s no bad thing. The usual haunts, at the usual times.

The regular Tuesday evening ride is still there, all are welcome. If you haven’t had an email from me, it’s only because I don’t have an address for you so please get in touch, facebook, twitter, here. Doesn’t matter as it’s all about the ride.

It’s been a few years since I was here, Selkirk Rugby Club. Real Life, in the form of Jessica’s birthday, has made attending the Selkirk Marathon difficult for the last few years. It’s a shame, it’s been amongst my favourite events and it’s one I still have good memories of in spite of ‘issues’ the two times I’ve done it.

Both times, injury played a part. First time out, I injured my knee in the run up, lost a degree of fitness and toiled round the 50km route after dropping down from 100km due to knee pain and fatigue. Second time out, 11 onths after my knee recovered, and with no incidents in the meantime, it blew up on the third climb of the 100km at Innerleithen. I walked most of the way to Minch Moor, still beat the 100km cutoff, but decided to just finish the 75km and not risk further knee damage.

So, against that backdrop, I wangled a pass for this year’s CRC Selkirk MTB Marathon thanks do handy timing of Jess’s birthday and the promise of a family camping trip.

Travelling down on Saturday afternoon, we arrived in good time and set up Moonbase Doig….

The evening was spent chilling out at the pasta party then the veranda of the rugby club, carb loading on Guiness and Pilstner. There are worse ways to spend a July Saturday, that’s for sure.

James commented on the other campers – they all seemed a tad….serious. Proper racer types, very few mortals / weekend warriors and the campsite did seem a little sparse. Not at all ominous. Maybe there were lots of people travelling down on Sunday morning….

Sunday morning arrived and, on leaving the tent, I noticed that there were both lots of people looking ready to go already, (at 8am), and that there were a hell of a lot more cars in the car park. The next 1 1/2 hrs was a blur of breakfast, final preparation and changing. Trying to get my head in the right place and dealing with any last minute niggles. However, it was time to work towards the start and get ready to set off.

We waited…..and boom…..off.

A 5km spin away from Selkirk, neutralised and behind a lead out vehicle then the climbing began. We went up through Bowhill, over Fauldshope Hill and Fastheugh Hill then down into Broadmeadows.

From there we then climbed up Broomy Lawe and onto Browne Law. This was a bit of a hike-a-bike, so we dug in and just got on with it until we could pedal again. The course had changed since I had last done this, so this was pretty much all new so far. However, I started to recognise elements as we pressed on.

We crept upwards and, as we reached the familiar site of the Three Brethren, crossed the return leg of the 25km marathon. We then got to descend again.

Descending through the forest, we exited onto the road and rode the undulations to the feed station, resting my legs a bit on the way as I knew what was coming up. A stop here for biscuits and refilling water bottles, then we were off again. Along the road from here for a spell, leaving the 50km riders to peel off and reaching Elibank for the third climb. This is one that stuck in my head from previous years. A stream of switchbacks that slowly let you ascend the hill, I had nailed it last time and reached the top without dabbing, but this time it was climb three, not climb two. It was hard work, but I managed it. At the top I had a breather and talked to a few others who had the same idea. We set off again, through the natural singletrack descent then a steep chute which spat us out at another feed station not on the route guide. This though, is where things started to go a little wrong.

I got some more food and went to press on, but noticed that there was only a sign for the 3/4 marathon, not the full marathon. I asked the marshall and was advised that we had missed a cuttoff. This was news to me. There had been no mention of this in the briefing before the race or on the paper briefing document. I was, as they say, gutted. My number plate was sprayed to indicate the change to the lower distance. I set off on the rest of the 3/4 marathon, feeling dejected and wasn’t really into it anymore. I pressed on, passed the final feed station without stopping and worked my way along the Southern Upland Way back to the Three Brethren before hitting the final descent. I rolled back into the rugby club with the cloud still over my head and into the finish area.

Luckily, I had a reception committee and the warm welcome did wonders for my mood. Nothing beats the cheerleaders to chase away the blues…..

The post mortem….

Yes, I was disappointed, and I spent a chunk of the week after the event pondering what had happened. I wasn’t impressed with the fact that there was no warning about this cutoff and, after arguably having waited for four years to properly attack the 100km, to have the chance taken away without any proper explanation is galling…..

However, shit happens, I’ve got to be philosophical about it and, as someone pointed out to me earlier in the week, it just gives me an aim for next year – beat the cutoff.

It’s more than do-able too. I hit the mystery feed station at about 2:20pm and the secret cut-off was seemingly 2pm. I rested my legs on the way to feed station 2, spent a good 10 minutes there and took five at the top of the third climb, or, to put it another way, if I had cracked on full pelt to the feed station and not stopped for too long, plus rested on the way down from the third climb, I’d have made it easily.

In addition, Jen faccies the sportive on the Saturday so we may just make a weekend of it, swapping kid-watching duties while the other rides.

So, a plan for next year and someting positive to take from the experience…..

More words later.